Words...
Are these the only strengths I hold?
These repetitive and bland words
Are all that make this existence.
Why do I bother to continue this writing?
A word, or a sentence, or a paragraph, or a novel
Would never be appreciated.
These words are never heard
For they are never spoken...
Why?
Because, they are never read.

This leaves a still confusing picture within my mind.
I see a softly drawn tree,
Focused on the leaves.
Ah, the leaves.
My brothers and sisters entwined with the image's
Most fearful light.
The light is rooted towards to ground.
A Fire.
A Light.
A Remembrance.
This fire is killing my brothers
And defiling my sisters.
This was you.

I see you walking
Farther away;
You are also confused
Bewildered emotions are coursing through
Your subtle, but noticeable veins.
How do I know?
The sad look upon your face of course.
Don't underestimate me, my friend.
Just because my eyes are following the floor
Does not mean I do not see you;
Because you, my dear are on the floor.

Why do these feelings continue?
Can these tears truly bring this much animosity?
Is this all I can offer to please you?
These tears of pain
And bitter loathing?
Is this what they tried to teach
In that wretched pale room
With demeaning, burning lights?
Is this my own
Water Cycle?
Does it never end?
Will I never end?
Can this be replaced?

Maybe, one day
I will catch the fire
Burning my siblings
To engage in my own ending.
When there is fire...
There is no water...
 
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